


Redefine

by wigglebox



Category: Supernatural
Genre: DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, lucifer!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 14:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5873803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wigglebox/pseuds/wigglebox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During Cas’s time as a human and years just interacting with humans, a soul grew around his grace. It was weak and still fragile, but protected. </p><p>Until he said “yes”. </p><p>(References to S11E10)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Redefine

Cas knew he was screwed. He knew allowing Lucifer in was going to be a wild ride he might not survive. He understood how possession works, and he understood that while angels try to take care of their vessels the soul in the vessel takes more damage than if a demon were there. During Cas’s time as a human and years just interacting with humans, a soul grew around his grace. It was weak and still fragile but protected. 

Until he said “yes”. 

He laid in Dean’s bed for two weeks, conscious but in an almost vegetative state. Sleep came in short bursts and he could move when moved and helped along but for most of the time, he stayed in bed. 

It was almost like Cas’s body was on autopilot; still operating on the basic level of hygiene, food, sleep. He didn’t speak. It was too much energy for his soul and grace. 

It was also hard to think deep thoughts; hard to reflect on what had happened.

But what he could _feel_ was strong; or, what he wasn’t feeling. There was no guilt. No sadness or pain radiating through his body. No dark nights where he wandered on his own trying to pick apart his actions and finding out where we went wrong. The casualty rate was minimal and in the end necessary to defeat Amara and Lucifer. The only one who wound up taking the biggest punch was himself, but he knew he would recover… just slowly. 

Cas felt… he _knew_ he did a good job. 

And every night, as Dean slipped into the bed next to Cas and wrapped an arm around him to pull him closer, he knew he did a good job. Dean told him as he buried his face against Cas’s neck and they drifted off to sleep. The constant admiration for what Cas did and how stupid it was but they trusted him. That both Dean and Sam wanted him to stay and they _always wanted him to stay and I’m sorry if we ever made you feel like you didn’t belong here —_

It was warmth and comfort. It felt like home in the concrete walls.

Two weeks in, Cas knew what he had to do. 

There were three options for him, and one might have happened regardless if he made the choice or not. But he could very well recover his grace if he went back to heaven. They would have to contact another angel, retrieve Cas, and bring him back to heaven. Heaven being the place that felt less and less like home.. Maybe some angels would regard him with admiration and awe but not the majority.

If Cas went back up there, he’d feel eyes on him and whispers of rumors behind his back. Constantly on watch him to make sure he wouldn't’ ruin anything else and making sure he doesn’t go back down to help Dean and Sam. New marching orders would come, and things would go back to how they were (or as close as they could be) seven years prior. 

Cas realized as another night came and the warmth returned to the shared bed and the room felt more cozy and relaxed, that he didn’t want to return to heaven. For the past few years, he’s gotten further and further away from trying to lead the masses. Instead, just to help the few he could. To help the two he could. To impress the one he knew he could. 

No amount of angel grace would make him feel right again. 

That night, Cas didn’t sleep. Deans snored softly against the nape of his neck and the light in the corner of the room cast a homey glow across them but he did not sleep. 

The warmth radiating throughout Cas’s body was the human side, the human soul begging to be set free. It felt different than the dull ache he felt two years prior. That pain back then worked up from his fingers and his feet and nestled into his bones and muscles. Some days Cas couldn’t even move it ached so bad. 

That feeling creeped into the room now when Dean and Sam weren’t seen for a while around the bunker and Cas couldn’t hear them stirring around. The small twinges of pain and fear that they left him and that he was too much of a burden — 

But then the bunker door would open again and Dean would come back in the room with a hot mug of freshly brewed coffee. He’d then plop on the bed or a chair in the room with a show playing on Netflix or with a book in hand to read aloud.

In a few weeks, Cas could laugh along with the shows, sit up in bed and read for himself, and could walk unaided to the table and eat meals with Dean and Sam. 

The decision, once Cas started to regain more function, wasn’t hard to make. And he knew enough that this time it was _his_ decision. And it was a good one. 

A human life wasn’t penance anymore; it was freedom.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Supernatural Writing Challenge for January. My prompt was "Freedom".  
> I also wanted to toy around with the ramifications of Lucifer!Cas so I tried to merge them.  
> <3  
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
